"No, thank you," Saffron said softly, her hands folded in front of her and head bowed so her gaze was fixed firmly on O'Reilly's feet. "I ate at the Sanctuary." She wasn't sure how to handle this. Solomon Wreath treated this man with so much respect, even subtle and wry as it was, that Saffron had to do the same--according to her station, of course. Even though she wasn't sure why.

He was mortal. He was mortal and a Christian priest, and Elder Solomon Wreath treated him like a trusted confidant. Saffron couldn't understand it. What was so special about him that one of the most powerful people of whom Saffron knew would trust him so much? Especially someone who was an ex-Necromancer?

She had to ask. She couldn't be so disrespectful to ask Elder Wreath himself, especially with how he'd reacted the first day, but she could ask O'Reilly. "What did you do to him?" she blurted out, her gaze rising to his chest. She flushed. "I mean, um. What--why does he trust you so much? He's--and you're--"

Solomon Wreath was a powerful sorcerer, a Cleric of the Temple. Patrick O'Reilly was mortal and a Christian priest. It was obvious now that O'Reilly had something to do with Solomon's decision to leave the Temple, however truthfully dangerous Necromancy truly was. Saffron just didn't understand how. They were two men who should never have even crossed paths, let alone thoughts. "I don't understand."